


this feeling called grief

by sidereumluscus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Post S8, i basically projected all my issues onto lance lmao, i wrote this in like half an hour on my phone srry if its shitty, lance is grieving big time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 10:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17041643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidereumluscus/pseuds/sidereumluscus
Summary: Lance is grieving. It's going to take a while before he gets better, but he knows he'll get there in the end.





	this feeling called grief

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the poem "this feeling called grief" by paul brown
> 
> i drew from my own experiences with grief but everyone grieves differently so this may be different to what you pictured
> 
> hope you enjoy this sad mess

It took Lance months to feel okay again; for him to feel like he wasn’t constantly drowning, gasping for air, for Allura. He’d never lost someone so close to him before. Sure, his Grandfather died when he was little, but he was too young to really remember what that was like. He only remembers seeing his father break down in his mother’s arms; something he’d never seen before. His father was always a paragon of strength, it was a shock to see his father like that. Now, though, he understands.

For the first few weeks, Lance didn’t leave his bed. Time passed with him staring at the ceiling, dry eyed, not really aware of what was going on around him; when his mother came to give him food; when she came again to take away the untouched food; when Veronica tried to get him out of bed, only for Lance to turn away and burrow deeper under the covers. The only time Lance acknowledged his family was when his niece and nephew slowly opened the door, peering in, unsure of whether it was safe to enter . They didn’t try and talk to him, just lied down next to him, one on either side of Lance, and fell asleep. That was the first time Lance felt something other than enveloping sadness. 

The next day, Lance got up, changed his sheets, and took a shower. 

 

Lance was accustomed to isolating himself when he was hurting, but he found he wasn’t uncomfortable with the company of his family. After escaping from the security of his bed, he sat on the couch downstairs and watched every ocean documentary he could find. Normally, when he was feeling low he would watch crappy romance films to cheer himself up, but now, seeing couples fall in love and have a happy ending would only make him crawl back into the safety of his bed and never come back out. He could no longer watch documentaries on space, either, that was too much. 

His mother was delighted to see Lance out of his bed, freshly showered, but tried her best not to smother him. He could see it in her eyes, how desperately she wanted to help, and maybe in the past Lance would have tried to ease her worries, but now Lance didn’t feel much of anything, except a weight on his chest and an aching head. So instead he sat on the couch, and learnt about the ocean. 

 

Hunk come by on the fourth week. He’d made a casserole, one of Lance’s favourites. Lance appreciated the thought, but he couldn’t muster any kind of thanks in return. His mother stepped in instead, thanking Hunk for kind gesture. Lance could hear their low voices in the kitchen, talking about him. Normally, Lance would be anxious to find out what they were saying, but now he couldn’t care less.

Hunk came out of the kitchen and sat beside Lance. He could feel Hunk’s eyes on him, could feel the concern seeping from every pore and attaching itself to Lance. He carried on watching his documentary, and Hunk didn’t say anything. 

After a while, Lance’s eyelids were getting heavy and he couldn’t do anything to stop them from closing. His head found Hunk’s shoulder, and he fell asleep.

 

It didn’t take long for Lance to start dreaming. Unsurprisingly, Allura appeared. In his dream, seeing her didn’t feel as if his chest was ripping itself apart, he just felt warm, something he hasn’t felt since they returned on Earth, without her. They were in a field covered with juniberries. Allura sat opposite him, her legs crossed, her head tilted back, looking at the sky. She was wearing the same dress she wore on their first date. When Lance and her first kissed. When he told her he loved her, had always loved her, and always will. 

Her gaze moved to look at him, his heart fluttered as it always did when she looked at him. This time, however, there was something in her eyes, something not right, something sad. 

She placed her hand on Lance’s face, cupping his cheek. He leaned into the touch. Her skin was warm to the touch. She smiled a sad smile, and leaned in to kiss him. 

It was soft and gentle, exactly how she had kissed him on their first date. Her hand still placed on his cheek. She pulled back slightly, just enough so they could put their foreheads together. She wiped away a single tear, Lance hadn’t even realised he was crying.

“You will be okay, my love.” She placed one last kiss on his cheek, and disappeared. 

 

Lance woke into darkness. He was still on the couch, his head on Hunk’s shoulder. It must have been the middle of the night. He sat up, away from Hunk, and made to stand up, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Lance?” Hunk’s voice was groggy with sleep.

“Yeah, I’m here.” 

Hunk stood and turned on the light, and his eyes were once again filled with worry when he saw Lance’s face. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Hunk sat down again, and cupped Lance’s cheek, just like Allura had done in his dream. He blinked back the tears as much as he could.

“You’ve been crying.” Hunk’s thumb swiped cheek, and, sure enough, Lance could feel that it was wet. The memory of Allura in his dream, doing the exact same thing was too much. He could no longer keep the tears at bay. They spilled out of his eyes until Lance was sobbing and Hunk was guiding his head to his shoulder, and putting his arms around him. 

Lance knew he was getting Hunk’s t-shirt soaked with tears, and probably snot, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. This was the first time he had let himself cry, let himself really feel what he was feeling. There was no going back now. 

Lance wasn’t sure how long it had been, but the tears had finally stopped falling. He sat back, and looked at Hunk.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, we’re friends, it’s what we do.” If Lance had had anymore tears left in him, he was sure he would start crying again at Hunk’s words, but he didn’t, so he couldn’t. 

They stayed up the rest of the night watching more ocean documentaries, and feigning sleep when Lance’s mother came downstairs. Lance knew his mother’s worry would only increase if she saw they had stayed up all night. 

That day, after Hunk left, Lance helped his mother with some errands and went to the shops to buy food for the rest of the week. 

 

By the second month, Lance was talking again and getting out of the house every once in a while to run to the shops and back. Each time he did, the pressure in his chest eased ever so slightly. He knew it would be a while until he was back to being himself, if he ever would be, but he was content with the progress he was making. And he knew that out there, somewhere, Allura was proud of him too.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! constructive criticism is encouraged! 
> 
> my twitter is @raylacatra  
> my cartoon tumblr is @spiinnetossa


End file.
